


i entrust you this body even as it turns blue

by gypsumgreen



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Deaf Character, Help, Hurt/Comfort, I need a beta, I still don't know how to do tenses, Idiots in Love, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mutual Pining, No beta we die like illiterates, Short Chapters, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, colourblind takeshi, deaf tsuna
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26789536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsumgreen/pseuds/gypsumgreen
Summary: Marks are subjective, but relevant to the soulmate. Soul ink never lies.Yamamoto Takeshi has his Mark at the end of March. Sawada Tsunayoshi has always had his.Soul ink never lies, but the truth is so much more complex than anyone think it is.
Relationships: Sawada Tsunayoshi/Yamamoto Takeshi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 42





	1. what cannot be heard, what cannot be seen

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, a soulmate AU! I can't write long chapters or reasonably realistic dialogue and real-world actions, so have this sort-of prologue.
> 
> Updates are probably going to be infrequent.

There is silence in the dark corners of his mind. 

There is always silence in his mind. 

There is a sound, he supposes - a silent hum, reverberating through each neuron, each synapse - there is sound, and there is the silence before and after. 

He hears not, but he sees. 

He sees the colours of the sky, blue and red and yellow and orange and the violet and indigo in between, sees the saturated shade of green and faint traces of yellow the grass is in, sees each and every expression and twitch in facial expressions. 

There is always colour and shapes and it is loud in a way.

He sees, too, the soul ink that marks his thigh, runs up to his pelvis and down to his ankle - but everyone sees that. 

Could his soulmate hear? Could they see? Would they love? Could he love? 

There are questions, unheard jeers that go seen, and people acting like they know what he doesn't. 

Of course they do. They know what it's like to hear, what it's like to know what comes behind them. 

Tsuna doesn't really want to hear, though. He sees too much, and he can't imagine a world in which there is one more route of input. 

He thinks he wouldn't be able to handle it. 

\---

When class ends - the clock is three-thirty, stand and bow and thanks - he walks back home. 

Yamamoto Takeshi walks home with him. They live on different streets, but they go through the same route. 

His ink hasn't appeared yet. He's predicted to have it by the end of March. The school's rife with whispers about who the lucky one is. 

Tsuna hopes, secretly, that it's him. 

He doesn't know why. His Mark is different, so different to Takeshi that it hurts. Swords and baseball are two vastly different things, and there are words of valour, swears of fealty - so, so different to outgoing, happy-go-lucky Takeshi. 

He hopes it's him, and he tries not to think about it. 

\---

March ends, and Takeshi has his Mark. 

He wished it was Tsuna. 

He doesn't know why. His Mark is different, so different to Tsuna that it hurts. The fire inked on him burns, and he tries not to cry. Would the tears quench it? 

Maybe he shouldn't have wished for anything after all - his wishes always end up distorted. Like the bottom of a swimming pool. 

Tsuna is not fire. Tsuna is the spring rain, the morning mist, the thin wispy cirrus clouds on a particularly sunny day. He is the flash of lightning in the distance that heralds the storm.

Tsuna does not burn. He is not a candle that burns itself out just to provide light for others. 

He hates to think that he is. 

\--- 

There is a dissonance in Takeshi's mind. He is himself but not himself, looks in the mirror and sees Takeshi but not him. 

He thinks it's normal, of course. Who doesn't exist questioning their very self and whether it's real or not? 

He wakes every day, eats every day and sleeps every day. 

He is, but he is not, always between existing and not. 

Takeshi holds on to baseball - the pitch, the swing, the crack. It's something that he's reasonably certain that's real aside from Tsuna, but he can't hold on to Tsuna. 

Autumn looks the same as spring, except with more leaves on the ground. Green looks yellow or yellow looks green, red looks gray or gray looks red. 

There is less colour, but there's more sound. 

He hears whispers, not about him but about his classmates, who loves who and who's whose soulmate. He hears the quacking of ducks seven kilometres away from his classroom, and he hears each raindrop. 

He wonders if his soulmate sees what he doesn't. Whether their springs and summers and autumns and winter's are different. 

Would he want to see what others saw? Probably. Probably not. He's too used to shades of yellow and gray and blue. He can't imagine more colours.

He thinks he wouldn't be able to handle it.


	2. my heart burns for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gratitude mistaken for love, a trip to the reception room, a new student, a duel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I messed up the timeline a little. Hibari's a little ooc, and there's really really strong pining from Takeshi.

The first time Takeshi saw the fire, his thoughts halted. 

It was like molten gold (orange, one of his teammates had told him), but brighter. It seemed to be calling for him. 

Then Tsuna - of course it was Tsuna, of course Tsuna was naked except for underwear - came skidding to a halt at the side of the pavement, barely ten feet from where he was standing. 

"Kyoko-chan! I like you a lot!"

Then he passes out. 

He freezes. Everyone does.

How? 

Then he notices the (still smoking) bullet hole in his neck. 

It doesn't answer his questions, and in fact raises even more, but it is clear that something had been done to it. 

There is outrage, and there is Mochida-senpai, who was in the middle of confessing. 

Eventually, Tsuna is carried up to the nurse's office by two DC members, and the day continues, albeit with a lot more noise. 

\---

He remembers speaking. He remembers hearing, but it had been distressing. There was simply so much noise, and he couldn't hear his mind.

He raises fingers to his throat, tries to speak. He cannot. He doesn't know how to form syllables, doesn't know how to form lips and tongue into words. 

He doesn't know why he said that to Kyoko-chan. She's amazing, he knows, but that's that. 

Maybe it was what Reborn had signed right before he shot him.

Speaking of which, Reborn had shot him. 

And he was naked. 

Some kind of noise must have come out of him then, as he attempted a groan and flopped back to his bed. The nurse peeks over, a little disgusted. Her brow crinkles and her nostrils flare a little. Her uniform is stark white, bright against the already bright walls. 

She opens her mouth, and, realizing that he couldn't hear, simply tossed a clean uniform onto the bed, then scribbles a note. 

'Change into this. The DC Chairman has requested your presence in the reception room.'

She leaves, and he reads over the note again, scribbled black words against yellow Sticky-note. 

Right. He probably wanted to see him after that little stint in front of the school gates, maybe to ask why he could speak. 

How was he supposed to answer? That his hitman tutor had fired a bullet that sprung fire and made him shred his clothes at him? That he didn't really like Kyoko that way, that he was just grateful that she'd helped him with his homework last week and that she was really nice and it just came out like that? 

He doesn't even believe himself. 

He clambers out of bed laboriously. His limbs still hurt, his head still throbs and he wants to go home. Where was Reborn when you needed him? 

\---

The reception room is slightly darker than the corridor outside - not enough for people to stumble around in, but enough that they feel like someone or something will jump out at them. 

Hibari raises his head from the desk and nods at him to sit. 

He sits, somewhat stiff. Might be the fear Hibari rouses in everyone. He doesn't make eye contact and keeps his head low. 

Something like an eternity passed between them before a slip of paper is slid towards him. 

It isn't Hibari's handwriting. He's seen it many times, elegant and round. This handwriting is - how shall he say - full of spikes. Sharp and square. 

'Sawada Tsunayoshi:

For confessing to Kyoko naked and being a creepy perverted stalker, I challenge you to a duel! As you are currently weak and I'm kind, the date of the duel is tomorrow, after school. You cannot refuse.

Mochida Kensuke.'

Hibari is staring at him now, steel-gray eyes as calm as - well. Not calm. Never. Like a an aquarium with the oxygen bubbler turned on. It's hard to describe that. 

Another slip of paper is slid towards him. 

'Herbivore, I'm permitting this only once. Repeat this offense, and I will bite you to death.'

He gulped, and nodded. Hibari waved for him to leave. 

\---

Takeshi isn't waiting at the school gates, for once. It's become a habit for them to wait for the other, so he stops there and waits for him. 

Half an hour passes, and Takeshi hurries up to him, smelling of sweat and dirt and looking a little harried. He prepares to say something, but stops himself and signs, "Sorry, I had baseball practice. There's this big competition with Yumei coming up."

Tsuna grins. 

"Well, don't wear yourself out too much, will you? Wouldn't fancy a broken arm right before the day."

They walk home, chatting (or, well, signing) about this and that. Neither mention the morning, nor does Takeshi bring up the topic of his Mark and how his heart leapt when he saw him. Tsuna tries to shake the feeling that something bad will happen, and tries not to tell Takeshi how much he would miss him, as it came out of nowhere. 

\---

The new student is clearly in violation of the uniform code. 

Cigarettes on school grounds is also prohibited. Along with dynamites. 

Tsuna reaches out a hand to steady his table as Gokudera Hayato's leg readies itself to kick it over. It takes him by surprise, and he huffs and stalks back to his seat. 

There's something other than him to worry about, though. The kendo match. It's absolutely a kendo match, as Mochida's in the kendo club and he isn't and he hasn't brought a racquet today.

Class ends and the boys on Mochida's side clamour to bring him to the gym. He catches Gokudera looking disgusted and Takeshi worried. 

\---

There are quite a lot of people in the gym today. He was under the impression that it would just be the both of them and a referee. 

The armor he's handed is heavy. It's certainly not what Mochida's wearing, as he can move as normal. He can't voice it, though, and not everybody knows sign language. 

It's definitely rigged. The sword, too, is weighted, as he knows how much a kendo sword weighs, and this is about three kilograms too heavy. 

Mochida speaks, and he watches his lips, fascinated. He catches one or two words, "Kyoko" and "prize", and Hana and Kyoko look really angry, so it must've been having Kyoko as a prize. 

Which was unforgivable. 

There is a flash, a scream, and fire.

He looks down at his hands and finds hair in them. Black hair. Short hair. 

He's pulled out Mochida's hair. Ouch. 

\---

Takeshi didn't want to watch the duel. One of his teammates coaxed him into watching it. 

There is the whoosh of a bullet, long before the bang, and someone screams. 

Them there's the fire, blazing on Tsuna's forehead. 

Takeshi is entranced by it. 

\---

When they walk home, Tsuna in a borrowed uniform, the sun is setting. They sky is gray and yellow and just a little blue. 

"Good job, Tsuna," he signs. 

Tsuna simply nods. 

They walk in silence after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this, please leave a kudo or a comment (or both!).

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this, remember to leave a kudo and a comment (and yell at me if it's been a month since the last update) on your way out.


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